


Loki's Bizarre Adventure

by amiesce



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Purple Prose, don't know what else to tag because spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amiesce/pseuds/amiesce
Summary: Loki somehow ended up in Norway. The grass bowed softly beneath his feet and the air smelled of salt.





	Loki's Bizarre Adventure

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME. If you haven't seen the movie GO TO JAIL DO NOT PASS GO thanks.

**New York, 2012**

Loki looked down and the Tesseract was right there, glowing next to his toes. He didn’t hesitate. When he stepped backward into the void, the last sounds he heard were Tony Stark spasming on the ground and his brother’s jovial voice booming above the panic of the crowd. In the next moment, Loki stood on a cliffside blanketed by grass. He didn’t know where the Stone had taken him, only knew that this was still Earth — it was much too early to return home. The grass bowed softly beneath his feet and the air smelled of salt.

He howled. He who had dreamed of imperialism and glory, who had been stripped of his armies and cosmic inheritance, now screamed behind the intolerable muzzle like a wounded animal at the bottom of a deep ravine.

It wasn’t the abject, incontestable failure that ripped through the god like the burning ice train of a comet, but the rejection. This planet didn’t want him. It had sent its little ravagers to exterminate him like some infection. Bound and hobbled him like some criminal.

Loki’s outburst was passionate and brief. The calm settled over his blood-bruised face and he stared down at the blue artifact in his shackled hands.

He was not some insect to be fumigated by the miasma of Earth’s petty heroism and defiance. The brutish armies and imperative colonialism were the ways of Thanos, of his father. Loki had lived all his life in the silvered shadows, the undercurrent. He _would_ rule. It was his manifest birthright. But the next time, it would be on his terms.

“Dear me,” the Sorcerer Supreme commented. “You’re not quite where you should be.”

Loki whirled around. A stone-faced woman stood with her hands loosely clasped in front of her, an immortal statue in strange robes and faint amusement glittering in her fey gaze.

“You left in such a hurry,” she continued, her gaze slipping down to the Tesseract that he still clutched in his hands. “I _almost_ had difficulty following you.”

His eyes narrowed. If he could speak, he would have threatened her with the devastation of everything she ever held dear.

The Sorcerer Supreme’s amusement shifted subtly across her face. “I’ll be bringing you back to New York now. You shouldn’t wander off.”

The ravine opened beneath him. Loki had a moment to experience the gut-lurching sensation of absent gravity, and then he was stumbling across the marble floor of the Avengers Tower lobby.

The quick-reflexed Steve Rogers tackled him to the ground, jostling the Tesseract out of his grasp. A resuscitated Tony Stark was quick to scoop the glowing cube off the ground, sweeping his alert eyes over its surface.

“Loki!” Thor bellowed in his most disapproving voice, lifted verbatim out of a page from their father’s book. He marched over and grabbed Loki by the collar, ripping the fabric in his passion, and glared nose-to-nose at his younger brother.

“You’re sure you can handle him?” Steve Rogers asked Thor, his hand still clasping Loki’s shoulder.

“My brother will face the judgment of our father,” Thor returns, holding steady on the words “my brother” but wavering after “our father.”

Loki lifted his chin, gazed at Thor through lowered lashes. Thor’s swollen, overzealous heart would never let their father execute him for his failures. They would throw him into the dungeons and spend the next century plastering over the shame of his existence. The palace was littered with such palimpsests.

He could play the repentant. He would withstand all storms — fury of the father, grief of the mother. Play the right cards, and he would be free again, no doubt thanks to his bumbling brother serving as unwitting accomplice. In time, they would genuflect before his dazzling majesty.

There was just one uncertainty. Where had that pesky woman come from? How had she managed to drag him back to New York though he wielded the Space Stone? The worry furrowed his brow for a moment, but Loki dismissed it. Whoever this self-titled “Sorcerer Supreme” was, she was only human. _He_ was a god, and on his shoulders rested the inevitable weight of his sovereignty.

**Author's Note:**

> Or you could say he was burdened with glorious purpose — I'll stop.  
> I know everyone and their grandmother is freaking out about Loki escaping with the space stone. I figure that even if Time Traveler Cap doesn't find a way to stop Loki from popping off, someone will be around to drag him back. Also, time travel confuses me.


End file.
